


The Honeymoon

by Sophia_Bee



Series: Charles and Erik: Man on The Train [3]
Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Charles Topping, Charles is Long-Suffering, Cute, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Erik Loves Charles' Ass, Erik is always Naked, Erik is naked, Fluff, Honeymoon, M/M, Mutant Husbands, Paris (City), Ridiculous, Sex, Sex Toys, Smitten Erik, So Married, gift baskets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 09:31:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3062765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophia_Bee/pseuds/Sophia_Bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik and Charles are in Paris for their honeymoon. Erik makes some lists of things they can do while there. Charles is unamused. Erik is naked. Sharon sends a gift basket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Honeymoon

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Black Betty for the suggestion that she would not mind if I wrote a bit of the honeymoon. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Giving you a bit of toppy Charles here. Also, this is set right after Hank and Raven get married. I skipped backwards a bit.

“Erik,” Charles says as he takes a pile of shirts out of the suitcase that’s lying open on the bed, “I found your to-do list for Paris.”

“Hmmmm…” Erik hums, tossing a bunch of socks into an open drawer.

“We need to talk about it, Erik. We’re in Paris.”

“I know,” Erik grins, “it’s wonderful. You're wonderful. Everything is wonderful."

“We should really see the sights while we’re here.” Charles sighs, “which means we need to revisit your list considering that the first item on it is ‘lick Charles’ ass’.

Erik’s grin turns wicked.

“I mean, you can lick my ass anywhere.”

“Anywhere? Now that sounds intriguing. Even a bit kinky." Erik says, raising an eyebrow, and Charles thinks he really needs to watch what he’s saying lest he gives Erik even more ideas. Sometimes his husband is a minetrap of naughtiness.

“Meaning ass-licking can happen anywhere, not just in Paris.” Charles sighs. “We should be out seeing things. We're in Paris, after all.”

“Lick your ass while we stare at the Eiffel Tower?” Erik asks with mock innocence, “The view here is spectacular from the living room. I don’t mind licking your ass while you're bent over that couch.”

Charles keeps his face neutral while he ignores his husband as well as the tingle his cock sends him. It seems to be Team Erik. Charles feels a bit ganged up on.

“And the second item, Erik.”

“The second?” Erik asks, again feigning innocence.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about." Charles says as he pulls the piece of paper he'd found in the table that morning before they left for the airport out of his pocket and reads the second item. “Number two. Be naked. We can’t go out if you intend to be naked the entire time.”

“Well, I did try to research if we could, but Google kept giving me a bunch of links to naked Paris Hilton. Ew.” Erik says, sounding a little disturbed as he throws a pile of boxers onto the bed next to the socks. “I’m also not entirely convinced anyone else should be subjected to your naked ass. It has mysterious powers.”

"It seems to have snagged you fully clothed." Charles observes dryly.

Erik's brow knits. "Hmmmmm...you have a point. Maybe you shouldn't be allowed in public anymore."

"It would be nice if you would actually make a serious list..."

"I'm going to seriously lick your ass? Would that be serious enough.”

“ERIK!” Charles says, putting his pants into one of the drawers. “Do you even know what a honeymoon is for?”

Erik blinks, looking confused, as if this might not be a real question. He stares at Charles for a couple seconds then opens his mouth.

“Sex?”

“Being together!” Charles says, “you know, dinner, museums, seeing the sights. Being somewhere together. We’ve never gone somewhere together. That’s what you do…. And….”

Erik is still looking at Charles and he is looking increasingly bemused. Charles frowns as his voice trails off.

“And?” Erik asks, frowning a bit, waiting for Charles’ next big proclamation.

“And sex.” Charles huffs out, realizing that he’s just listed off what they should do for their twentieth wedding anniversary, not their honeymoon, and exactly how old and boring is he?

“Now?” Erik asks, turning to root around in the suitcase. Charles licks his lips that are dry from a day of travelling.

“Um, yes.” Charles says, his cock now half-hard and getting increasingly interested.

“Here? On the bed? I’ll have to move the suitcase.” Erik asks, turning around to hold out a bottle of their favorite lube and he grins as he informs Charles that he brought three bottles.

“The couch sounds good,” Charles says, a bit sheepishly, “I’d really like to see the Eiffel Tower when I come. I mean, we are in Paris after all.”

 

~*~

 

“God, you’re sexy.”

Charles glances back at his husband who is standing behind him, leaning forward a bit to whisper in his ear.

“I mean hella sexy.”

“Hella, Erik? Isn’t that like slang from five years ago?”

“If I could go down on you right now, I would.”

“Erik,” Charles hisses, “I know you didn’t want to go to the Louvre, but if you stop bothering me and look around, it’s amazing.”

“You’re ass is amazing.”

“Yes, you said that about five time this morning. I know honeymoons are about sex, darling, but you have a spectacularly one track mind.”

Erik grins.

“I have a lot of time to make up for.”

Charles frowns a bit and tries to concentrate as he stands in front of the fucking Mona Lisa as his husband grabs a big handful of his ass. What time does Erik have to make up for? They’ve essentially been together non-stop since the night Erik came over to his house after the IV pole incident. Charles looks back at Erik, who is grinning widely and pulling Charles back against him. He asks him what he means by making up for time.

“All those years without you, Charles.” Erik says quietly, “there were too many. Sometimes I wish I’d known you all my life and even that doesn’t feel like enough.”

Charles melts. He lets himself lean back against Erik and closes his eyes and Erik’s fingers skate down his arms.

“Erik?” Charles says, no longer wanting to stare at the spectacularness that is the Mona Lisa.

“Yes dear,” Erik says, and Charles feels the words rumbling against his back.

“I think I want you to take me back to the apartment.”

Erik bends his head and places a soft kiss on Charles’ cheek.

“Yes dear.” he murmurs.

Erik's insatiable sexual appetite, one. Paris, zero.

 

~*~

 

“I found another list of yours,” Charles says, leaning on the door jamb of the apartment bedroom holding a piece of paper.

“Grocery list?” Erik says, looking at Charles from where he’s lounging naked on the bed. It appears that Erik’s general philosophy of doing most things nude is transcontinental.

“No. Not a grocery list. When have you ever made a grocery list? It does appear to involve eating though. Just not, ahem, food.”

Erik grins and his eyes spark with mischief. Charles is pretty sure his husband knows which list he found. Especially since it seems to have been purposefully been left on the dresser that morning.

“You kept telling me we had to make lists of the things we want to do in Paris, so I did. You didn’t like it, so I made another one.”

Charles looks down at the piece of paper.

“Yes, Erik. It is titled ‘Things to do in Paris’. I’ll give you that much, but you thought this list would be better.” Charles reads off the first item. “Number one. Charles.”

“Oh yes,” Erik says, “Could you cross that one off. Actually, put about four lines through it.”

“Ha ha.” Charles says dryly, thinking to himself it might actually be five at this point. “Number two. My hot husband.”

“Do you think it’s a too redundant?” Erik asks seriously, “I mean Charles and hot husband are interchangeable.”

“Well, unless you have another hot husband I don’t know about, yes.” Charles says. “And the rest is basically a list of different sexual acts. Rimming. Hand job. Hand job in PUBLIC? Cowboy. Charles topping. Hmmmmmm….” Charles pauses briefly, because that does sound somewhat lovely, “And for some reason, lunch at Bistrot Paul Bert. I guess you thought it would be a good idea to stop fucking long enough to eat. And…”

Charles pauses. Erik is now borderline laughing at him and his cock is half-hard. He appears to like his own list.

“Yes, Charles?”

“Whipped cream. The last item on the list is whipped cream.”

Erik shrugs nonchalantly. “I like whipped cream. But that’s not the last item. Look on the back.”

Charles turns the paper over and squints at something scrawled on the back then he looks at Erik and glares. He reads it aloud.

“Send Scott postcard telling him having a good time fucking Charles in Paris. You are NOT doing that Erik Lehnhserr. You are banned from purchasing any postcards until you swear to me that will not happen.”

“I thought he’d like to know we’re having a good time,” Erik says, blinking with mock innocence.

“Erik! You can’t send Scott postcards detailing our sex life. You just can’t.”

“Okay.” Erik says. “Well, I guess we can do something on your list.”

“Musee d’Orsay?” Charles says eagerly.

“Oh god, not another museum.” Erik moans.

“A little shopping on rue Saint-Honore? I need to get a present for Raven.”

“Do they sell postcards?” Erik asks. Charles rolls his eyes. He stares at his husband who is having a hard time containing his smile at this point.

“I guess,” Charles says slowly, starting to feel a bit defeated, “we should go back to your list.”

“Want to fuck me?” Erik says like he’s asking if Charles would like to head out to one of the Parisian street markets. Charles licks his lips. It’s not their usual, but Erik is hot and tight and when he sinks his cock into his ass, it’s pretty damn nice. And it is their honeymoon, and if Erik wants it, well....

“Yes.” Charles says, pulling his t-shirt over his head as he walks over to the bed. Erik watches him with a hot gaze, his lips parted slightly. “Do you ever wear clothes? I seem to have gained one Naked Husband.”

“Why do you wear so many?” Erik responds and Charles unbuttons and unzips his jeans then shimmies them down his hips. They pool around his ankles and he steps out of them. He crawls up the bed to Erik, who has flipped on his back, his skin starting to flush as he stares up at Charles, and straddles his hips.

“You know, love,” Charles says, looking down at Erik then reaching out to gently pinch one of his nipples, watching as his husband arches slightly off the bed. “At the rate we’re going we might as well have taped a poster of the Eiffel tower on the bedroom window and skipped the entire trip.

Erik tips his head back and Charles continues to play with his nipple then lifts it to look at him.

“That street for shopping you mentioned...does it have a poster shop?”

Charles pinches Erik’s nipple a little harder and Erik lets out a little moan, but he refuses to be distracted.

“Or a t-shirt place. I wanted to get Sharon some Paris t-shirts for the dogs….” Erik says, causing Charles to twist a little, “AHHHH...fuck, Charles….”

“Fuck you, Erik.” Charles says, smiling down at his husband who is staring up at him, a look on his face somewhere between mischievous and aroused. It could actually describe Erik’s default state in life. Erik knows full-well that rue Saint-Honore is all boutique high end stuff and not fucking posters and dog t-shirts.

“Yes, Charles,” Erik moans, “fuck me. Wasn’t that on the list?”

“Not yet, love.” Charles murmurs. “You’ve earned this one slow.” His hand drifts to Erik’s other nipples and he gets to work. Erik tips his head backwards again. Charles bends down and replaces his fingers with his mouth, laving the hard bud with his tongue and he feels Erik bucking up against him, and Erik’s cock is hard. Charles doesn’t retreat, just licks and sucks, enjoying the sounds Erik is making. When he finally pops off, he blows lightly across the nipple, that’s now wet and shining with his saliva, and enjoys the whimper that escapes from Erik.

“Bastard,” Erik grunts and Charles smiles. He takes his hands and slides them up Erik’s arms, along the soft inner skin, pushing the upwards to stretch them above Erik’s head until he reaches the fine bones of Erik’s wrists and grips them, holding them there as Charles moves until his face hovers above Erik’s.

“I love your dirty mouth.” Charles says, leaning down until his lips are a mere centimeter from Erik’s, his breath huffing out against Erik’s mouth. Charles pulls back quickly when Erik lunges up to try to kiss him. “It’s filthy and delicious. I want to taste it.”

“Fuck you.” Erik says, managing a smile despite the tension in his voice. Charles smiles then dips his head down again, slowly, slowly, until he hears another whimper from the man pinned below him, and only then does he place a single soft kiss on those lips he loves so much. He’s rewarded with a gasp and Erik surging upwards, his lips crashing into Charles’ and their mouths come together in a sloppy, wet kiss full of tongue. Erik loves kissing Charles in general, sometimes spending long periods of time exploring his mouth, so it’s no surprise when he sucks at Charles tongue greedily and his mouth keeps groping for kisses, taking what Charles will give until Charles pulls far enough away that Erik can’t reach his mouth anymore. At this point, Erik bucks up his hips and grinds his now hard cock upwards into Charles’, causing Charles’ breath to hitch, and he wants...oh god, he wants….

“Fucking bossy bastard,” Erik growls, nipping up at Charles, his eyes dark with desire. Charles feels lust curling darkly in his belly and he knows his cock is leaking, and he could just grab the lube and spread Erik’s legs right now, and get the relief that he’s starting to ache for. But not yet...not quite yet.

“Over,” Charles growls and Erik nods, his eyes looking eager. Wait, my love, Charles thinks. I’m not quite done with you yet. He releases Erik’s hands and rolls off his hips to allow Erik to flip onto his belly. “Hands and knees,” Charles manages to say hoarsely, and Erik complies, rocking himself up onto his knees, his arms holding his weight, trembling a little. Erik’s head hangs, down, as if he can’t manage the effort to keep it up, and his hair is starting to get damp from sweat. Charles sits back on his heels and looks at his husband who is waiting for him, his cock hard, flushed and leaking precum, his chest rising, his lips parted. Charles moves behind him, pushes his legs further apart and slots himself between them. He moves forward until his hard cock is pressed up against Erik’s ass, causing him to gasp a little, and the little bit of friction feels almost too good. Charles leans his weight across Erik’s back until his chest is pressed against Erik’s spine which is trying to arch up against him. Charles is nuzzling the nape of his husband neck. He places a kiss there, then moves down his spine a few inches and places another kiss, another few inches, another kiss. He scoots back, his cock no longer pressing into Erik’s cleft, and he keeps going until his lips are hovering over the small of Erik’s back, just before the rise of his buttocks, and Charles leans down, watching as a bead of sweat drips off his forehead and drops onto Erik’s flushed, hot skin, and kisses a dimple there.

“Lovely.” Charles murmurs at Erik’s breath hitches and he hears him mutter, ‘please’ under his breath. Charles his back to sitting on his heels now and he takes a finger and touches that dimple then he traces his way along Erik’s cleft, and bringing his other hand up, he separates Erik’s buttocks, leans down and licks a long strip across Erik’s anus. Erik jerks.

“Oh fuck. OH FUCK. Charles. More.”

Whatever you want, my love, Charles thinks and licks again, and one more time, then he returns to Erik’s anus and concentrates on it with his tongue.

“Deeper.” Erik growls.

Charles spreads Erik wide open with his hands then pushes his tongue inside. Erik moans loudly, and it kind of sounds like Charles’ name but he’s not sure. Charles penetrates Erik with his tongue over and over and Erik’s hips start to undulate, and his head is hanging down even more, and he’s telling Charles that this is all good. So good. It will get better, Charles thinks to himself, then he pulls back and again, Erik whimpers. Charles reaches over to the bedside table and grabs the lube. He slicks up his aching cock then scoots forward again, pressing his cock back up against Erik’s cleft and Erik pushes back against him, and he’s mewling. Oh god, Erik is almost begging, and a thrill runs through Charles. He moves back enough to reach down and position his cock against Erik’s ass and in one swift motion he pushes inside, knowing that that Erik doesn’t want this slow at this point. He wants to be fucked. He goes in so far with the first effort that he ends up with his balls pressed up against Erik’s ass. Charles grips Erik’s hips but he doesn’t move. He stills, enjoying Erik around his cock, his hot tightness, watching his husband’s uneven breathing, adjusting to the feeling of being buried inside him, the way his body reacts, the tightness that is starting to build.

“Are you ready, love?” Charles whispers.

“Yes,” Erik chokes out, “Please.”

And with that, Charles moves, pulling out until the tip of his cock is the only part still inside Erik, then slamming forward, Erik bracing himself as Charles goes deep inside him. Charles groans and does this again, and after a few lazy pumps of his hips, he speeds up, slamming into Erik over and over.

It’s good. It’s so fucking good. Charles takes a deep, shaking breath, trying to slow down his body, because he doesn’t think he’s going to last that long, and he doesn’t want this to end quite yet. He’s dripping sweat now, gasping with exertion, and his pace quickens as the sensations build, and his whole body feels tight with tension. He wants...god, he wants. Erik is moaning his name, pushing back against him, and Charles leans forward, his hips starting to jerk unevenly now and he starts to come undone. He presses his chest along the length of Erik’s back again, letting Erik take his weight, and one of his hands release Erik’s hip and reaches around to grip Erik’s hard cock, pumping it irregularly. Erik shudders at his touch and this makes Charles hips snap even harder. He’s slamming into Erik and pumping Erik’s cock with his fist, and he feels that deep tingle in his belly that snakes out into his limbs, curling his toes, and he’s able to grunt out something that sounds like ‘ah, coming’ just as his orgasm hits with a unexpected ferocity, and Charles bucks hard against ERik’s ass as he comes, spurting hot and sticky inside his husband, who almost immediately tenses up under Charles and comes as Charles is still jerking against him.

They both collapse onto the bed, Charles spent cock slipping out of Erik’s ass and he sprawls bonelessly across his husband’s back, feeling Erik’s breathing as it goes from uneven and fast to slower, measured. After what seems like a long while but might only have been minutes, Charles manages to roll off Erik, onto the bed, and Erik rolls onto his side so they are facing each other.

“Holy shit, that was amazing.” Eriks says, reaching to smooth a sweaty strand of hair off Charles’ forehead.

“Yeah,” Charles says. “Better than shopping.”

“Or museums.” Erik laughs. Charles nods and presses his lips to Erik’s in a soft, loving kiss. “I love Paris.”

“I love you. Now, sleep.” Charles says, curling closer to Erik and groping for the covers. He closes his eyes and inhales the scent of Erik mixed with the musky smell of sex, and slowly drifts to sleep.

 

~*~

 

Charles is drinking coffee, not tea, when Erik walks into the kitchen of the Paris apartment carrying a large gift basket wrapped in cellophane. Charles takes a sip of the coffee, which he’d switched to because he always feels like when he’s in Paris he should be drinking coffee, and rolls his eyes.

Mother.

“What is it this time,” Charles asks. “Fruit. A fucking toaster. Will she ever stop?”

Erik pushes aside some of the cellophane and peeks inside then looks back up at Charles with his eyebrows arched.

“Um, none of those.” He says, a huge smile on his face.

“Nothing edible?” Charles asks, “why the hell did she send us things we just have to haul back to New York.”

“I didn’t say nothing edible,” Erik says, still grinning.

“What is it?” Charles says, growing more curious.

“Well,” Erik says slowly, “it appears your mother sent us a honeymoon kit.”

Charles’ mouth falls open and he feels a blush climb up his cheeks.

“Oh my god.”

“The lube is edible.” Erik says, chuckling a little.

“I’m going to die.”

“There’s a finger vibrator. Hmmmmmm….”

“My mother sent us sex toys.” Charles says dryly. “Seriously.”

“Oh, and dirty dice.”

Charles stops carrying on about Sharon’s inappropriateness for a brief moment and throws Erik a look.

“Like you need any assistance when it comes to dirty ideas, Erik.” Charles says dryly. Then it occurs to him what she’s up to. She telling him that their sex life needs spicing up. His mother is passively aggressively criticising his sex life. This thought makes Charles moan and bury his face in his hands. He can almost hear Sharon’s voice. ‘Now that you’re married, Charles, you’re going to have to keep things alive in the bedroom.’ He wants to die.

“There’s a card.” Erik says, still rooting around in the basket, “Oh, and a vibrating ring. Hmmmmmm. Lots of vibrating is going to be happening.”

“I want to die.” Charles says into his hands.

“Well, if you are going to die, maybe we can arrange to have it happen while you’re coming with all the lovely sex toys your mother has sent us.”

“Please, Erik.” Charles says, throwing an imploring look at his husband who is holding the card from the gift basket. “never ever again use say ‘sex toys’ and ‘your mother’ in the same sentence.”

Erik smiles and rips open the envelope. He scans the card then looks over its edge giving Charles an incredulous look.

“Um, Charles?”

“Yes dear?”

“There’s more to this gift.”

“Let me guess, my mother has included her favorite sex tips?” That would be the cherry on top of this uncomfortable sundae of a honeymoon gift.

“Um, no. She’s given us this apartment.”

Charles sits bolt upright. What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK?????

“No way.” Charles says, grabbing the card. It’s right there, in Sharon’s handwriting. The apartment belongs to them. Charles feels entirely overwhelmed. It’s too much. It’s too generous. It’s...it’s just….

Lovely. They will be able to come back to where they had their honeymoon whenever they want. Charles closes his eyes. They can come for Christmas. Raven and Hank can come too. It has two bedrooms. They can come in the spring. It will be their bed, full of their memories. And maybe someday they can come here with their children.

Their children. Where the hell did that thought come from? Charles pushes it aside.

Less than an hour later, Charles is lying spent with Erik’s slicked up finger is still up his ass, although he did manage to turn off the vibrator that’s attached to it, and the taste of flavored lube is still lingering on Charles tongue. His body is twitching with those delicious orgasmic aftershocks that travel across his muscles, reminding him of just moments ago when he’d arched back called out Erik’s name as he came. Erik pulls out his finger and goes to clean the vibrator and his hand while Charles lies blissed out and boneless on the bed. His husband returns and slides into bed next to him, pulling him close, and Charles smiles, settling back against the long stretch of warm skin that is a satisfied Erik.

“We should send a thank you note.” Erik murmurs into Charles’ hair.

“Oh god,” Charles chuckles. “I’m not sure how that will be worded. My mother has just given us an apartment. A fucking apartment in Paris.”

“An apartment in Paris to fuck in.” Eriks says cleverly. “As well as an orgasm.”

“Oh my god,” Charles says, squeezing his eyes shut, “please don’t put it that way, Erik. Please.”

 

~*~

 

“Look darling, sunshine!” Charles says, linking his arm through Erik’s as they walk down the street. “We are finally in Paris.”

“We’ve been in Paris for five days, Charles.”

“We’ve been fucking our brains out in our Paris apartment for five days, Erik. Well, except for that trip to the Louvre that you managed to effectively abort. Now we’re finally outside and it’s beautiful.”

“Does this mean I get my handjob in public?” Erik asks, cocking an eyebrow. Charles swats at his husband.

“No.” Charles says firmly. “You’re incorrigible, Erik Lehnsherr. I thought we could go see the Sacre-Coeur. And Notre Dame. And Sainte-Chapelle.”

“Charles?” Erik says, and Charles stops rattling off his list of must-see sights and looks up at his husband, who is frowning slightly. “Are any of these things even close to each other?”

“Oh, I have NO idea,” Charles says with a smile, “I mean, you finally put clothes on. And we’re actually out of the apartment. That’s about as far as I got. You’ve made me a bit addle-brained with all the sex.”

“All the sex,” Erik repeats, his voice sounding a bit gravely. Oh god. Charles tightens his grip on his husband’s arm, knowing that he’s precariously close to being dragged back to the apartment.

“But this is fine.” Charles says, deciding that even though there are so many things he’d like to do, this is fine too. The Eiffel Tower is looming behind them as they stroll arm in arm. “I like just walking down the street with you.”

Erik smiles, and it’s one of his insanely happy, brilliant smiles. Charles has learned to interpret Erik’s smiles, and this one is one of his favorites.

“I like it too.”

They walk for a bit longer, staring into shop windows, enjoying the feel of the city, how it feels both timeless and old at the same time, steeped in history. They stop at a boulangerie and Charles gets a croissant. They take their coffee and pastries and settle at one of the small tables lining the sidewalk. When he bites into the warm, buttery pastry he rolls his eyes in pure and utter gastronomical bliss.

“Soooooo good,” Charles almost moans.

“Better than sex?” Erik asks, sounding amused.

“Damn close.” Charles says. Erik arches his eyebrow and sips his cafe au lait. Knowing Erik he’s now contemplating how he could combine croissants and and fucking. Charles would not be disagreeable to whatever creative solution his husband could come up with. The pastry is practically melting on his tongue.

“You know….” Erik says then trails off as he gazes across the table at Charles, who pops the last bit of croissant into his mouth and proceeds to lick his fingers. He hears Erik’s sharp intake of breath, and then Erik clears his throat and starts again. “Um, you know, Charles. I made another list.”

Oh god. The lists. Erik’s lists are going to be the death of him. Death by orgasm. He’s pretty sure it could actually happen.

“You have a one track mind, my love.” Charles mutters, wishing there was a bit more of that croissant. It seems the French have not gotten the hang of making things half the size of Texas.

“Maybe it’s not about sex.” Erik says.

“Maybe the sun won’t shine today,” Charles answers, “oh, wait, it is.”

“Ha.” Erik huffs. “You should take a look at it.”

Erik reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, looks at it with a smile, the slides it across the table towards Charles. Charles glances at it.

Things I Love about Charles. By Erik M. Lehnsherr.

Charles heart melts a little. He looks at Erik.

“You had to put a by-line on it?”

“I did.” Erik says, flashing Charles a smile. Charles reads more.

_1\. He’s Charles._

Very sweet.

_2\. His ass._

Really Erik. Back to the ass? He knows what Erik would say. It’s all about the ass. Still, Charles smiles.

_3\. blue eyes. most beautiful blue eyes in the world._

Oh Erik.

_4\. Smells good in the morning._

Does he really smell good in the morning, Charles wonders, or is Erik just entirely smitten. He’s not entirely convinced that anyone smells good in the morning.

_5\. best goddamn nurse on the planet._

Charles smiles. Erik knows how much his job means to him.

_6\. loves his family._

He does. Even with all its craziness, Charles loves Sharon and Raven and Hank and even those damn dogs that are going to end up with expensive sweaters from Paris.

_7\. gives the best damn blow job on the planet_

Charles blushes a bit. Erik has indicated that he considers Charles to have a very talented mouth, but on the planet? His husband is sweet. He thinks he should ask if a trophy is included but decides against it because knowing Erik, he’ll have one made.

_8\. puts up with me._

Tears start to prick at the edges of Charles eyes. Of course he puts up with Erik. Erik is the most amazing person he’s ever met, and Charles wouldn’t trade him for the world. Even if he is incorrigible.

_9\. married me when we never dated, two days after I asked him._

Because who does that? What kind of idiot plunges in like that? Before he’d met Erik, Charles would have answered that it would never EVER be him who did something like that, but he’s glad he did. Charles looks up at Erik, his eyes shining with tears and Erik is looking back with a serious look on his face. Charles glances back down because there’s one last item to read.

_10\. Thank you._

“Erik!” Charles manages to whisper, “This...this is too much.”

“It’s just the truth, Charles.” Erik says softly, “I just wanted you to know. And I wanted to make a list that didn’t end up with you sputtering at me.”

“Well, I might sputter, but it will be tears this time, my love.” Charles says, smiling. “Unless this is your way of luring me back to the apartment for more sex….”

“Well,” Erik says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, making Charles laugh. He loves how much Erik makes him laugh. “That’s a nice idea, but we are dressed and out and we might as well make a day of it. If my list has inspired you to ravage me, I promise you can do it later tonight. I don’t think we’re that far from Notre Dame.”

“Okay,” Charles says, reaching out to take Erik’s hands in his. “Sex later. Lots of sex later. Right now, Paris!”

“Yes,” Erik says, squeezing Charles’ hands back, “Paris. You, me and Paris.”

 

~fin~


End file.
